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Theresa is glad to see Amiya asleep.

Amiya did not see the Doctor's betrayal, nor Theresa's final bout of sorrow.

The Black Crown finally lands neatly in Amiya's hands as Theresa takes down the final assassin in the room.

It's alright, Amiya. Everything's fine...

It's over.

Theresa does not look at the one frozen in place before her. She gently pats the back of the child in her arms and leaves a kiss on her puerile cheek.

Theresa. I can't throw away this opportunity I spent millions of lives and myriads of years to reach.

I can't let you ruin the plan for Originium. I can't... let you turn this great land into a beautiful but fleeting dream.

And that's why you put Amiya in harm's way.

...Seeing as the King of Sarkaz has already seen my memories, I believe there's no need for any further explanation.

Do you hate me?

You hurt Amiya. You're about to hurt Kal'tsit, and the fighters who trust you so deeply.

Is this how you treat those lives?

I'll do what I can to ensure their safety in the ensuing conflict. This is what Theresis swore to me as well.

We only... need you to die.

Doctor... did you present yourself before me out of guilt?

Guilt... is too light of a word, compared to everything I've done.

We made too many choices in a time that even Kal'tsit isn't familiar with.

I just...

When Amiya grows up, if she remembers me, if she asks about me, will you tell her the truth... of how I left her?

No.

I'll help them search for another way to live.

You'll help them search for a final moment of peace before Originium destroys Terra?

I'm sorry... That's the one thing that's set in stone.

You know it's futile... and yet you still wish to cure Amiya's sickness.

Even if her family and homeland will all turn into the same hunks of Originium in the not-too-distant future, along with anyone and anything you'll ever know...

You still don't want the girl before your eyes to suffer.

That's what you sincerely feel. Your purest thoughts. Your innate nature.

And actually... I'm glad, Doctor.

I'm glad you're real and true—the one who Kal'tsit willingly trusts, and in turn trusts us.

You... the creator of Originium... {@nickname}. You are the poison that ruins everything, but also the antidote to it all.

...What?

Theresa strains to stand up, stretching her arms towards the Doctor, instilling in the latter an instinctive urge to retreat.

The Doctor tries to move, but fails. Sorrow far surpasses the collapsing rationality at this moment.

Theresa touches the face beneath the mask.

You're crying, Doctor...

Well, that's the kind of person you are. You know your own fragility, you know how much of a threat I pose to you even at a time like this... and yet... you still came here.

So, I still... am willing to believe in you.

To trust in who you really are.

To trust in our {@nickname} who brings the rain, dew, and sun.

This face is both familiar and strange. Theresa knows its features well.

She never had a chance to directly perceive the emotions on it until now.

She smiles and stretches out her finger, snipping the scene before her into two, as if it were made of cloth.

Then, she slowly pulls out a loose thread from the rift, and the remnants unravel as the Doctor's memories dissipate.

Theresa goes in deeper, without looking back, until every memory is taken apart into a mess of disconnected white threads.

Like the very night, a long time ago, when she was still young, teaching herself to sew with Theresis by her side.

The memories disintegrate until a mere fragment of the soul remains.

A silhouette stands at the end of that memory. Theresa thinks the figure both familiar and strange.

It's the Doctor. It's not the Doctor.

<color=#000000>What are you doing to me, Theresa?</color>

We're done here, but I suddenly feel like leaving you a surprise... so don't blame me for this, Doctor.

I'll say to you this one thing...

'Find yourself.'